


not great with words

by thanks_tacos



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abused Dean Winchester, Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Alpha Castiel/Omega Dean Winchester, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst with a Happy Ending, Kissing, M/M, Omega Dean, Protective Castiel (Supernatural), pretty upbeat at times i'd say, tiny bit of fluff or hurt/comfort?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:20:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22295455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thanks_tacos/pseuds/thanks_tacos
Summary: Castiel's been teaching literature at the university for years, and a certain 28-year-old Dean Walker is his most annoying student; lazy and rude - unnatural characteristics for an omega. Castiel wants to fail Dean, but maybe the man deserves a second chance?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 59
Kudos: 499





	not great with words

**Author's Note:**

> i guess i should say that this is not related to my other works in any way. all mistakes are mine! enjoy.  
>  **warning:** there's one violent scene in this fic, not graphic enough to warrant the tag imo, but just saying.

'Bye, Mr. N!'

Castiel pauses going through his papers and looks up. Dean Walker, already in the doorway. 

'Dean, wait!' he calls out and the omega stops and then slowly turns around.

'What's up?' he asks, his voice wary. Castiel takes him in. He looks even more tired these days. Most students do, with finals approaching, but Dean was never one to apply himself, so would exams have him anxious?

'I need to talk to you about your essay,' he says and gestures for him to come over. Dean's the oldest student in his class; twenty-eight and no previous education, save for some omega classes in his teens. Still, he manages to look like a child when he shuffles to the desk with a grimace, a bag slung over his shoulder and the collar of his jacket popped up, hiding some of his omega collar from sight. Maybe for the better, as it's not expensive nor pretty, a band of thick, heavy leather wrapped around his neck. 

'What's wrong with it?' Dean questions, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to another. Castiel can't smell him at all, not with whatever scent blockers he's using, but he's pretty sure Dean can recognize his own irritated scent just fine. 

'Everything's wrong with it,' Castiel slaps it on top of the other essays, feeling a little angry. Dean's one of the three omegas in class and he's arrogant and lazy. He never takes notes, sleeps on some lectures, rarely knows any answers and fails to solve most tasks during the weekly tests. Castiel offers to explain things after class, but Dean never hangs around, just bolts like his heels are on fire the second the lecture's over. He's never late, though, Castiel has to admit that. Most of the time he's there before the class starts, sitting on a bench in front of the lecture room, earphones in and eyes closed. 

Either way, given his bad academic records, Castiel knows he must've been accepted to university because his alpha is paying for it. Perhaps the alpha insists on it, and that's why Dean hates it. Maybe he would prefer to stay at home and focus on housework like most omegas. It would be a blessing for both of them. 

'You didn't even meet the word requirement and it's full of grammatical mistakes,' Castiel lists, pointing to the phrases he had to circle with his red marker. He's willing to bet there are more red marks than actual words used in this essay. 'It goes off-topic in the second sentence. You wrote their instead of they're four times. Four.'

'So not an A then, I guess?' Dean smirks uncertainly, his green eyes sparkling, but when he sees Castiel's stormy expression, he drops it. 'Uh, okay, what can I say, I'm not great with words.'

'You clearly aren't, as _not great_ doesn't even begin to cover it,' Castiel shoots back, frustrated. It's unprofessional and he knows it, but Dean gets on his nerves like no one else, with his cockiness and the "i-don't-care" attitude. Not all of them got here because their mates are rich. 

Dean looks almost hurt for a split second, but then the infuriating smirk is back. 

'Okay, fine, I get it, I'll try better next time,' he says. 'That all, teach? Cause I'm kinda-'

'Dean, if you don't improve in the next month, I will have to fail you.'

Dean gapes at him with his mouth open like a fish out of the water and Castiel feels some tasteless satisfaction.

'What? That's not fair! I'm always in class and I always write these stupid essays,' Dean points to the offensive piece of paper. 'You just hate me cause I'm an omega.'

They both know it's not true.

'Please,' Castiel rolls his eyes. 'I teach two other omegas, in case you hadn't noticed. And I don't _hate_ you,' he's not sure if _that_ 's true, but he won't admit it. 'But I do need you to try harder. You're never active during lessons, and I suppose you haven't read any of the books I listed at the beginning of the semester.'

'Watched the movies,' Dean shrugs with his hands in his pockets. He doesn't smile though, not anymore. 'Fine, I'll try harder. Maybe we can have a do-over?'

'This isn't elementary school. You received a D- for this one.'

'Ugh,' Dean groans and looks to the ceiling. 'Seriously. I don't even care about Othello. I'm only in this class cause I need it to pass the first year and then I'll be out of your hair, and never read any books ever again. Can't you go easy on me?'

'I _am_ going easy on you,' Castiel deadpans. 'Please try to improve before finals.'

He can see Dean roll his eyes one final time before he nods and disappears, always in a hurry. Maybe he has a bus he really needs to catch. 

Dean's behavior doesn't change. For two weeks, he dozes off, doesn't take out his pen, just stares vacantly at the blackboard and at Castiel, and when asked a question, just shrugs. Castiel's ready to give up on him when Dean hands in a five-page essay along with the rest of the group, and leaves. 

Castiel is sure it's going to be as bad as the other ones, but he's still curious. In fact, he's so curious that he starts reading right away. All students have left and he has the room to himself, so he leans back and scans the pages under the bright LED lights. 

The topic of this assignment was to write about a book that has personally moved the students, and every year Castiel gets at least three essays about Kerouac's On the Road. When he sees that it's what Dean's written about, he rolls his eyes with a sigh. He probably copied it off of some website. 

But it turns out to be a pleasant surprise. Dean's writing style is different this time; he seems to have dropped the forced academic writing that he so clumsily attempted. He writes from the first person which is a mistake a lot of students make, but somehow, it doesn't bother Castiel, because for the first time, he feels something reading it. Dean skips the whole bit about the characters and the plot, doesn't even mention that it's a roman a clef, and from the looks of it, he's not even aware of it. He found something he likes in the book and wrote about it, plain and simple, and that something is "the freedom of open roads", as he puts it. The part about how it made him feel like he was really travelling with the characters - sleeping on the roof of the car being bitten by mosquitos - sounds very straightforward but endearing, because an enormous longing, true and aching, shines right through it and it really moves Castiel. It's only the first page that's good, that's authentic; the second one and onwards are just many attempts to write about literary themes and style and Dean's clearly bad at it. But he tries. Castiel wanted improvement and he got it. Perhaps Dean will never be a novel writer, but it's more than enough to pass. 

There are some grammatical mistakes and an insufficient number of commas, so Castiel corrects them out of habit, but he notices that all the times Dean used "they're", he wrote it in uppercase letters for (sarcastic) emphasis. Maddening, Castiel thinks, but smiles a little, and of course the word count is exactly what it should be and not a word more.

Still. Major improvement.

He generously gives Dean a C+, but it bothers him hours later as he drives through the piles of snow with his wipers swinging furiously back and forth across his windshield. It's dark, but he thinks he sees a figure bundled in a coat trudging along the sidewalk with determination, almost fighting the wind and the snow. He slows down a little, and it's Dean; he doesn't know how, but some instinctual part of him knew that all along. 

Castiel drives up to him and rolls his window down, wincing as he's hit with a wave of cold. Dean notices him and flinches away, almost tripping on his feet. His cheeks and nose are red from the cold and he's wrapped tightly in his leather jacket. No winter coat, no scarf nor gloves? Castiel frowns.

'What are you doing here this late?' he asks the shivering omega. It sounds scolding, he knows; but an omega out at this hour, alone, even with the collar, that's just asking for trouble. Dean's mate should've picked him up. Something in Castiel rages at the sight in front of him, a freezing, lonely omega, with no one to take care of him. 

'What are you, my mother?' Dean scoffs and shakes off whatever he was feeling just seconds ago when he jumped away from the car. 'Missed my bus. See you on Monday.'

He starts walking, completely ignoring the alpha, and Castiel remembers that he hates him. All the same,

'Come on, I'll give you a ride,' he calls and rolls the car forward to match its speed with Dean's quick pace. 

'No, thanks,' Dean grunts out, tightening his hold on his backpack. 

'It's late and you're cold. Get in,' Castiel almost orders, but he's being serious. Dean could end up with pneumonia or worse - assaulted, they're still on campus and the town is miles away. 

Dean stops when he hears the voice and sort of freezes. He turns around and suddenly looks young and uncertain and scared, surveying the car - and Castiel - closely. After a moment, he must understand that he won't be left alone.

'Right,' he steps forward, but then hesitates. 'I guess since the bus is gone...'

'Yes, since it's gone,' Castiel leans over and opens the passenger door. 'Quickly, I'm getting cold.'

He doesn't mention how cold it must be for Dean, who clearly hates attention. He sits down next to him and Castiel feels as if a block of ice just joined him in the car. Once the doors are closed, he turns up the heat. 

He notices Dean's clutching something in his right hand and he glances there out of the corner of his eye. It's pepper spray. Hm. It sort of hurts his feelings, Dean thinking that he could attack him, but it's good that the omega doesn't trust people and has something to defend himself with. 

'So, where do you live?'

'That's skeevy, dude,' Dean replies, hostile. 'Just drop me off at a bus stop near that new shopping center.'

'I could literally check your address on my student list,' Castiel rolls his eyes, exasperated. 'I'm not leaving you alone somewhere in the city.'

'Jesus, I'm not a child,' Dean snarls, but Castiel doesn't miss how his teeth chatter and how he's shaking in his ill-fitting clothes. Because they are ill-fitting, he sees that now. The leather jacket is too big but looks good enough that it takes the attention away from the threadbare Henley, and the jeans with way too many rips in them. His boots look sturdy but still not fit for the ice-covered pavements. 'See something you like?'

Castiel startles as he looks up. His intentions were misread. Dean's wearing a smug smile, but he's not fooling anyone. His eyes are just a bit too wide and scared. 

'Cause if you even think about making a move on me, I'll make sure you won't see _anything_ for a good while,' Dean raises the hand holding the spray bottle. It's shaking from the cold and Dean's a little too afraid to make it sound threatening, but Castiel thinks it's a good effort. 

'I won't ever harm you, omega, I give you my word,' he tells him seriously, because this is no joking matter, this is something he can understand. Well, he's not an omega, but he imagines it's a dreadful existence. 

Dean snorts in response, another ugly smile marring his - really attractive features, and-

'Right, cause your word is worth so much-'

'I really enjoyed your paper,' Castiel interrupts him. 

'What?' Dean pauses and drops his hand. He stares at him, puzzled, for about a minute. Castiel drives. 'You've read it? Already?'

'Yes, I graded all essays tonight. I work fast.' They stop at a red light and Castiel turns to face Dean, who's fallen quiet but is still watching him. 'I appreciate your effort. I could see a definite improvement, and though you've chosen a very popular book, you managed to make it sound fresh for me.' Dean looks stumped. 'That's a real achievement, I assure you,' he adds with a dry smile. 

The omega nods, slightly dazed, and stares at his lap. Castiel doesn't know how to interpret that silence. 

'Do you have any other books that you enjoy?' he asks. Dean shrugs, but Castiel doesn't say anything else, and after a while, Dean finally clears his throat and replies:

'I like Vonnegut, I guess,' he admits, and sounds _embarrassed_ out of all things. 'Slaughterhouse Five.'

Now that's a surprise.

'Ah, yes. So it goes,' Castiel quotes easily, though he's not too fond of that book. But Dean surprises him again - he cracks a smile, and it's beautiful. 

'Yeah,' he looks like Castiel feels when he meets someone he can discuss his deep interests with; Dean lights up, like he forgot about the situation they're in, about how he's just essentially threatened to blind Castiel. 'You know it too?'

'It is considered to be one of the classics,' Castiel replies, frowning.

'Right, sure,' Dean hurries to add. 'I mean, I just found some beat-up copy in - well, some uh, some library, and -' Castiel's sure it was not a library, but Dean stutters and changes the topic. 'Anyway, I wanted to write about it, but I don't know shit about themes and styles and so on.'

'I do teach it. On the course that you attend. Perhaps if you took some notes once in a while it would stick.'

'Sticks just fine,' Dean grumbles. 'I listen. But it's different when I write.'

'There are resources online, I could direct you to-'

'I don't have a computer,' Dean cuts him off bluntly, looking almost like he's challenging Castiel to mock him, to say anything. 

'Doesn't your alpha have one?'

'None of your business,' Dean turns to face the window. 'Drop me off at Ridge 2921.'

That's progress, at least. Castiel doesn't know what Dean was doing during the last few hours; the classes were done for the day, maybe he spent that time in the library. He should've had plenty of time to catch the bus. But like Dean said, it's none of his business.

'I have tutoring classes every Thursday. You could come then, it would help you with your writing. You have a for and against essay during your finals.'

'I just ain't good at writing shit,' Dean replies, but less sharply this time. 'You said so yourself.'

'You've gotten considerably better once you applied yourself,' Castiel states. 'I think you can be pretty good if you continue to try hard.'

Castiel never expected that reaction, but Dean looks back at him, startled and hopeful and disbelieving.

'Really?' he asks and sounds really vulnerable. 'You think so?'

'Yes,' Castiel nods sincerely. He doesn't know what's going on in Dean's head, but his eyes are full of emotions, at least for the two seconds before Castiel has to direct his attention back on the road. 

'So that means you're not failing me, huh?' Dean sounds more like himself, this time - annoying and with that wry smile echoed in every sentence. 'Can I get your word on that, as well?'

Castiel sets his mouth in a thin line. 

'I already regret inviting you to the tutoring class,' he admits drily, and hears Dean chuckle.

'Just wait till I actually show up,' the omega winks, _winks_ at him when he glances back. He has to grip the steering wheel because this... is odd. He feels like punching something, hard, and also like leaning across the seat to kiss Dean so long he'll be too breathless to ever utter yet another flippant remark.

Very unprofessional.

Within minutes spent in a not-exactly-uncomfortable silence, they stop in front of a slightly run-down house in a row of similar houses. The paint is peeling off the porch, one of the wooden steps is broken and he can see some shingles are missing from the roof. How can Dean's alpha afford his tuition if they live in a house like this? 

'Thanks for the ride,' Dean says, grabbing his backpack. He slams the door, but turns around and taps on the window. Castiel rolls it down, looking at the omega questioningly. 

'You're not as big of an asshole as I thought you were,' Dean says with an honest grin that makes Castiel realize this is meant to be an actual compliment.

'How comforting,' Castiel replies, and Dean's smile widens. He gives a little wave, his breath coming out in puffs of white air, and he jogs to the house. Castiel waits until he finds a key and lets himself in, even though the light is on inside, so his alpha must be home.

Well. Not his business.

He changes Dean's grade to a B-.

Dean sleeps during the Monday lecture, and Castiel thinks they're back to square one. But now that he pays attention (and he can't stop, it's tiresome), he notices that Dean never talks to anyone in class. He sits alone, and it's not uncommon; omegas usually stay away from others, but he doesn't even attempt to talk to the two other omegas. He _always_ wears his earphones, only takes them off during class, and Castiel starts to think he should treat that as a sign of dedication. It's a low bar. 

Come Wednesday, Dean stays after class and he looks really nervous. 

'Listen, I can't make it to the tutoring class,' he says, wringing his hands. 'Somethin' came up. But don't kick me out. My next paper will be fine.'

Castiel's disappointed to hear it and surprised to realize that he really looked forward to spending more time with Dean. He'd think the omega's making excuses, but he's not being lazy; Dean looks really sad and anxious, which is new for him. 

'What is that something that came up?' Castiel asks, nevertheless. Maybe they can work something out. 

But Dean's face hardens and gone is the sweet omega from seconds ago.

'None of your business,' he almost barks, his cheeks flushing angrily. 'On second thought, throw me out. I don't give a fuck.'

Interesting. Castiel abandons their staring contest, bends down and opens a cabinet in his desk, and searches through it, aware of Dean's fidgeting, growing increasingly more nervous. He retrieves four books and puts them on the desk with a thud. 

'I'm lending you these and I want them returned in perfect condition,' he says, pushing the books in Dean's direction. The omega stares at him, baffled. 'You should be able to find most of what we'd cover during the tutoring class.'

Dean looks at the books and then back at him, and opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.

'I know you're not great with words, but I believe the ones you're looking for are "thank you",' Castiel supplies sarcastically, hoping it won't sting too badly and cause Dean to retreat, but it doesn't. Dean huffs like he can't believe Castiel's audacity, but he takes the books, his hands gentle like never before, and slides them inside his backpack. 

'I'll bring'em back in two weeks,' is what he says in lieu of thank you, but the look on his face is enough.

Castiel spends the weekend with a charming beta in a cozy B&B. The beta has blond hair and it makes him think of Dean, as hard as he tries to pretend it doesn't. But he enjoys the romantic retreat and the beta - Bradley - makes him laugh and unwind, and the sex is great. Castiel comes back to work relaxed like he hasn't been in ages, and that's good, because the next week is a whirlwind of early finals preparations. He stays hours after work, some students coming over to ask questions or have him look over their preparatory essays. 

He almost forgets about Dean, only catching glimpses of him all week, and then it's the last week before finals. Dean hands in a research paper about the environment, and it's really bad. Castiel tells him to stay after class on Wednesday and doesn't know how to break it to him. 

'I know it sucks,' Dean beats him to it, his shoulders slumped. 'Nature and shit, my weak spot.'

He looks exhausted. He has dark circles under his eyes and still that same leather jacket on, and it's only getting colder. Perhaps his alpha is paying a lot of money for the school and can't afford much else. Perhaps Dean refuses to let go of his "style" in exchange for warm clothing. Castiel's known students like these, and he thinks an omega like Dean must be a handful. From his impoliteness alone, Castiel concludes his mate grants him a lot of freedom. 

'It's not backed by any scientific evidence,' Castiel sighs. At least they're not fighting this time. 'I know you don't have a computer, but sufficient sources can be found in the library on campus. Half of what you wrote about is just hearsay, it's not true.'

'I couldn't go to the library,' Dean says, defeated. 'Alpha's friends came over, had to slave over the stove. Hey, I have some questions though, if you're not failing me yet.'

This is the first time Dean's mentioned his alpha, and Castiel listens intently, but it's not enlightening. 

'Of course. I won't fail you before the finals, but Dean, I won't be the one grading your work then. You need to try and write a for and against essay on your own, for practice. If you do it before Friday, I will be able to check it.'

'Right, that's what I wanted to ask about,' Dean hesitates. 'I don't really get a lot from these books. Do you have office hours? I can't be on tutoring classes, but maybe some other day-'

'Not this week, no,' Castiel replies but as he sees Dean nodding, resigned, he has another idea. 'But I can meet you on Saturday, if you're free, for an hour or so, to clear things up.'

Dean's head shoots up, his eyes hopeful. 

'You'd do that? Would be awesome.'

'I can wait in this room-'

'No, no, I won't make it to the campus on the weekend. Alpha wants me home but he's gone for a few hours in the morning. If we meet in the city, won't be too far for me to get back on time.'

'Alright. There's this cafe on Sunset Square, we should have some peace and quiet. 10 am?'

'It's a date!' Dean grins and Castiel doesn't have time to process it before the omega's gone. Such a tease. There's no point in expecting this to go any further than a teacher/student relationship, Castiel's no fool, but it doesn't stop him from dreaming. 

Dean shows up fifteen minutes late, panting and frozen, his nose and cheeks red and his eyes watering from the cold wind. He's in his everyday outfit - it's a wonder he's not sick yet - but he smiles widely when he sees Castiel and joins him by the table.

'Hi, Mr. N,' he takes out the books from his pack, his fingers shaking. 'Nice place.'

'I'd rather you just called me by my name,' Castiel takes a sip of his steaming, morning coffee and sees Dean track the movement with longing in his eyes. 

'You got it, Cas,' Dean grins and opens the book, straight to the point. 'I gotta ask about-'

'Wait, Dean, don't you want anything to drink?' Castiel frowns. Dean's usually in a hurry, but this time, all of his movements are hectic. And then - a sweet scent hits him. A scent of uncertainty and sadness and a bit of shame. It's Dean, Castiel realizes, dumbfounded like he's fifteen again, being able to scent emotions for the first time. The scent blockers are off. 

'Nah, I'm good, forgot my change,' Dean shrugs, though his eyes linger on the pies displayed up front and he swallows. Castiel frowns. The omega is hungry and cold, and that just won't do.

'Let me treat you to it,' he says and waves at a waitress. 

'I'm not some charity case,' Dean snaps angrily. He tenses, a snarl on his face, he leans forward reminding Castiel of an attack dog held back by a leash. 'I don't need to eat. We gonna learn or what? If you think this is courting, I'm married. All I want is to pass the finals, I'm not interested in _you_.'

That hurts, but Castiel doesn't let it show. 

'It's good that our intentions match,' he replies calmly, and Dean blinks, thrown off. It seems that other people don't ignore his anger as easily. 'I assure you I also buy coffee for my colleagues, none of which are omegas and none of which I court.'

'And are you?' Dean asks, the threatening, overconfident behavior slowly melting away. 'Courting anyone?'

'Not right now, no,' Castiel shakes his head. Dean files it away, looking strangely satisfied. The waitress arrives at their table and Dean orders the biggest black coffee they have, not glancing away from Castiel, not even for a second.

Castiel doesn't rise to the bait. He doesn't know why Dean tests him so much, but he lets him have it for now. There's no need to put him in his place, besides, that's intriguing. He feels a thrill of - something - when Dean's big green eyes stare at him - mockingly, daringly, but there's another emotion underneath it all, one that Castiel can't decode. He loves a challenge.

'Well, what about those questions?' he asks. Dean holds up a piece of paper he had trapped between the pages of the book, and Castiel sees that he wrote down dozens of questions. He frowns, but he takes it from him. 

Some questions are elementary, but Dean listens, the irritating attitude gone. He drinks his enormous coffee - doesn't take notes - but he listens and nods and asks more questions. It's like he's a brand new student, and Castiel's... perplexed, fascinated? He can't understand the dramatic changes in Dean's mood, the switch between the rude, aggressive and the attentive, tired omega in front of him. 

'Do you understand now?' he asks, done with the 46th question, buzzing with caffeine. Dean nods absently and looks out of the wide window at the snow-covered street. 'What are you studying, anyway?'

'Medicine,' Dean mutters and stares at his hands. 'Don't think I'll make it past the second semester, though.'

Castiel can't hide the surprise from his face, now.

'Do you like medicine?' he asks. 'You don't seem like the type.'

'It sucks,' Dean replies forlornly. 'But what the alpha wants, the alpha gets.'

'Your alpha... _wants_ you to be a doctor?' Castiel knits his brow together, now positively lost.

Dean snorts, finally looking back at him. 

'A doctor omega? You kiddin'? As a med grad, best I can hope for is being a nurse. They don't even look at you if you're an omega without a degree.'

Castiel never wondered how hard it is for an omega to get a successful job, but come to think of it, he has never met any omega doctors or lawyers or architects. 'So your alpha pays for your education and you feel compelled to get a degree you don't want? That must be wearisome.'

' _Pays_ for my education?' Dean repeats, disbelief and rage warring on his face. 'I passed the fuckin' tests, man.'

'You did?' 

'Well, I guess all that talk about me having potential was bullshit,' Dean leans back with a cynical smirk, but Castiel can see - and smell - that he's hurt. 

'It wasn't,' Castiel shakes his head, still slightly dazed. He never suspected Dean could have passed the tests. 'I apologize for my reaction. I don't think you're stupid, far from it, but you do seem to detest the educational system.'

He expects more rage, but Dean, it appears, is infinitely full of surprises. He blinks wordlessly at the apology, and then says:

'Yeah. Wanted to be a mechanic. I was fucking ecstatic when alpha let me - well, do something else than be a goddamn housemaid. I'm totally dying in that house, Cas. Nothin' to do for days on end, you can feel your brain melting, and then cook dinner, vacuum the fucking carpet, what else is there to do? He won't even buy some nails so I can fix the backdoor. Gets so cold in the winter.'

Castiel purses his lips at the sudden sadness and melancholy in Dean's voice.

'So you wanted to study...?'

'Engineering. Cars and stuff,' Dean shrugs. 'But soon as I got in, alpha said that nurses get paid better than mechanics, you know. So here I am.'

Now, Castiel gets it.

'He wants you to support the household,' he nods in realization. Castiel thought it to be weird, an alpha wanting their omega to have a position that would require them to spend a lot of time away. Omegas are supposed to take care of the house, but alphas are supposed to take care of _them_ , and Dean's alpha clearly isn't doing that. Suddenly Castiel understands why Dean doesn't have access to a computer or some winter clothes. It must've been obvious to everyone, but with Dean's attitude, it was just so hard to imagine he'd let anyone mistreat him like that...

Maybe he can't leave, though. Maybe it wasn't a marriage out of love that's gone sour; maybe it was one of the old-fashioned business arrangements.

'I already do,' Dean replies, and Castiel thinks back to what he said. 'I work at a garage, everyday. They don't let me touch the cars, though. Gordon gets all the money.'

'Your alpha?' Castiel gapes at him. So Dean studies, takes care of the house _and_ works? 'That's not fair.'

Dean laughs. 

'Tell me about it,' he says, but for the first time that day, he doesn't look sad. He seems genuinely amused by Castiel's comment. 

'So that's why you're always tired during my class,' Castiel muses. 'You must work very hard. I'm not surprised you fall asleep on the lectures.'

'I fall asleep cause your lectures blow,' Dean shoots back with an easy smile. Castiel squints at him. Dean shrugs innocently, a self-satisfied smile on his face. 'I'm gonna hit the can. You coming?'

Castiel stares at him, disoriented.

'Why would I...?'

'I wanna tell you something, something private,' Dean explains in a hushed voice, rolling his eyes. This might be important. Perhaps Dean wants to ask him for help. Perhaps his alpha is abusive and...

He follows the omega to the men's bathroom and shuts the door. Dean glances under the stalls, but it's empty.

'What did you want to-'

Dean's on him in seconds, kissing him hungrily. His fingers go to Castiel's hair, tugging, and he even bites the alpha's lip, which sends a shiver down Castiel's spine, heat pooling in his stomach and lower, burning and insistent. He shouldn't have expected anything else from such a bossy omega.

'Fuck, you taste good,' Dean breathes, right into his face, and Castiel stares back, shocked. Dean looks... aroused, surely, but also a little sheepish, like this is uncharted territory for him, his eyes wide and vulnerable and a slightly overwhelmed smile on his face. It's kind of sweet and kind of heart-wrenching, but most of all, confusing.

'Dean, I-'

'Right, getting to the good stuff,' Dean promises, getting on his knees. 'But you gotta return the favor, I don't do non-profit.'

'Dean!' Castiel pulls him back up by his arm. 'We can't do that.'

'Why not?' Dean asks, but he averts his eyes, a beginning of a blush gracing his freckled cheeks. Castiel wants to kiss them, but Dean moves first, pressing himself against Castiel until the alpha's trapped between a sink and a tiled wall, and Dean's lips wander down his neck, sucking and licking and-

'No,' Castiel pushes him away and Dean stumbles back a step, wounded. 'I thought you weren't interested in me.'

'I changed my mind. And I'm not even your student after the finals. It's practically over,' Dean complains, and Castiel balks, how can he not address the _most_ pressing issue?!

'You're married!'

Dean grimaces and looks away.

'He won't care,' he says, and then stares back at Castiel, steeling himself before adding: 'He never touches me. Eight years together, never does it. He thinks omegas are dirty. But you don't,' he meets Castiel's eyes unflinchingly, but he can't hide his scent; the frustration, the shame, the want. 

'Dean,' Castiel whispers, floored. 'You're a virgin?'

The omega chuckles in a patronizing manner that immediately grates on Castiel's nerves. 

'Not by a long shot, Cas,' he smirks. 'Plenty of willing alphas around. Lately, there's been this guy at the garage... but he's a rookie. Somehow I feel like you could show me a real good time.' He steps closer again, a seductive smile on his lips, his eyes shining. 'Baby, for you I can be as virgin as it gets.'

Castiel swallows. He needs to stop this, he knows. He needs to tell Dean that it's not how he does things, in some shabby bathroom of a public cafe, with a married omega, however badly his husband may treat him. 

But Dean wants it so much, something in his mind whispers. A desperate omega, resorting to throwing himself at foreign alphas, because his own won't satisfy him. And Castiel _could_ show him a good time, he could make him lose the smirk and the alpha posturing and the impoliteness, he could show him what it's like to mate with an experienced alpha, he could-

So when Dean's mouth is back on his and he's grinding against Castiel, the alpha embraces him and kisses back, and Dean melts into it with a content sigh. 

'Been thinkin' bout' you,' he murmurs against his skin. 'You're hot.'

'I like your scent,' Castiel admits. Dean's mouth is warm and inviting. 

'Lost my blockers - just for you,' Dean pants between the kisses. Castiel slides his hands under his shirt and up, and up, but then he feels - 

Dean flinches back, drawing a sharp breath, and Castiel sees a huge purple bruise all over his ribs where his shirt rode up. He tries to uncover it, get a good look, but Dean wrestles the hem of the shirt from him and drops it down.

'You're hurt-'

'Forget it,' Dean orders sternly, and leans in, gropes Castiel's ass. The alpha jumps at the unexpected feeling. 'Come on, professor. Teach me how to behave.'

That right there is an instant turn off. 

Castiel pushes Dean away and this time, he holds him there, at an arm's reach. 

'What?' Dean breathes, starting to get mad again. The challenging look is back on his face. Castiel doesn't know him well but somehow he understands that this - whoever this is, it's not Dean. Not the real him, anyway. 

'Do not bring my work into this,' he says. 'I don't like that.'

Dean blinks.

'Okay,' he shrugs and attempts to get close, but Castiel shakes his head.

'We're done here. I won't - I do find you attractive, but I don't do that. Not like that. Besides, I think your ribs are broken. I can take you to a clinic-'

Dean scowls; annoyed, angry, Castiel doesn't know. He stares at the alpha for a moment, like he's trying to figure him out, and Castiel simply waits. Then, Dean shakes his head with sad acceptance, and says:

'Don't need no doctors,' he hesitates and smiles a little, and it's real. 'But thanks for the coffee, babe.'

He turns around and leaves. The bathroom door slams shut and Castiel stands there for a beat, stunned. 

When he goes back to their table, Dean's, predictably, gone.

_1 new message_

Castiel rubs his eyes and puts away the crime novel he was reading. Maybe it's Bradley, but he'll have to decline. Finals are tomorrow and he won't have time to meet.

But it's not Bradley; it's Dean.

 _4 & against paper,_ the title says, and Castiel's eyes widen in disbelief.

_hey cas, sending you the paper. my brother sam came over with a laptop. he studies at stanford. smarts must run in the family ;) anyway i wrote the essay. read it and let me know if its ok. your favourite student dean_

Castiel feels downright murderous, and he _hates_ the smile that appears on his face. He tries to stifle it. It doesn't work. 

Dean's paper is... sufficient. It's clear he followed the steps Castiel suggested, and it's a huge improvement. Not perfect, but more than good enough.

He struggles with the reply, which feels silly considering his years of experience in teaching. But he has never been attracted to a student. Well, Dean's an expired student, in a way - 28 years old to Castiel's 31- but Castiel feels like it's unethical to both make out with Dean and grade his papers.

Except he's not grading them. He's just giving Dean tips. As, most likely, mates do. Support each other. Talk about their problems. 

Dean's broken ribs are a problem, and his tattered clothes, and his hunger and lack of money, and being forced to work for an alpha who owns him. That's a problem, not Castiel's crush.

But what can he do? Calling the police would only make it worse. Castiel knows they don't care about the abuse of omegas. He might call the omega services, but they'd just hand Dean over to some other alpha, state-appointed, and is he really ready to change someone's life like that? He should talk to Dean first. He doesn't even know all the facts. 

_Dean, the essay is fine,_ he writes. He adds some advice, but the e-mail sounds so formal. So he gives in and writes about his favourite parts of the paper, because there were some. He hopes he boosts Dean's confidence before finals. The omega deserves to be rewarded for all the hard work, even if he hates what he studies. 

He signs the mail _Cas_.

Castiel doesn't see Dean for the next week. They're not supposed to have any classes after the exams, but he hopes the omega will visit him and tell him how it went. Come Friday, he's sort of worried, and decides to write an e-mail to Dean when he gets home, but that's when the omega knocks on his door.

'Hey, Cas,' Dean says with a bright smile. He deposits Castiel's books on his desk. 'Done with that.'

'And the exams?' Castiel asks. The results have been uploaded online by now, he's certain of it. 

'Aced them!' Dean grins, hands in his pockets, looking radiant. 'Okay, fine, got 64% from your course.'

'But one can pass with just 60,' Castiel can't help himself and grins back, and feels a surreal urge to hug the omega. 'Congratulations, Dean. You earned it.'

'Meh,' Dean shrugs, trying to play it cool, but Castiel sees how happy he is. 'This reminds me. Got you a gift.'

He fishes a plastic container out of his backpack. It's full of tiny, book-shaped cookies. Castiel laughs at that, delighted, and Dean blushes a little, but puts the container on his desk on top of the returned books.

'You really didn't have to,' Castiel says. 'But thank you.'

'S'just cookies,' Dean replies. 'I took up lots of your time this semester.' Castiel's about to shake his head and say that it's his job and that - maybe that it was a pleasure, consequences be damned - but Dean looks smug as he adds: 'Gonna miss me?'

It's a question and Castiel suddenly finds himself at a loss for words, because there's so much he wants to say. _You know I will. Are you alright? Is your alpha hurting you? Will you come live with me instead? May I kiss you?_ None of these are appropriate at the moment. 

Before he decides what to say, someone calls out, voice sharp and furious:

'Omega!'

Dean flinches so hard, he hits Castiel's desk, the smirk and the happy air around him gone in an instant, replaced by fear so palpable that Castiel doesn't need his scent to feel it. 

A tall, dark-skinned man stands in the doorway, looking livid.

'Alpha, I was just-' Dean starts, meekly, and it's so unlike Dean, Castiel freezes. 

'Don't give me that shit,' Gordon, because that must be him, reaches Dean and slaps him across the face. So hard that Dean staggers and gasps, covering his head in a gesture that seems to come to him terrifyingly easy. Practiced, Castiel thinks, that's the word. Blood drips from Dean's nose, leaving a stain on the floor. Castiel thinks, detached, that he'll have to wipe it before he leaves. 'You've been spending enough of your time pretending to be learning and shit. I come home, and, would you imagine that, no dinner! And I told you to bring Terry lunch to work, but he calls me and says he hasn't seen you all day.'

'Terry can make his own fucking lunch!' Dean snaps, frustrated. 'I'm not his omega!'

Gordon chuckles, as if amused, and Castiel feels his blood run cold. 'Oh, I see how it is,' he says, slowly. 'Went to college, so now you're what, a new, smart, independent omega, huh?' He grabs Dean by the collar of his coat and slams him into the wall, and that breaks Castiel out of his stupor. That, and the look of pure fear on Dean's face. 'Tell me, how many dicks did you have to suck to pass?'

'That's enough!' Castiel steps forward and grabs Gordon, who looks at him like he's only noticed him now. Castiel pushes him away and stands between him and Dean. The omega slumps against the wall and wipes his bloody nose with his sleeve. 'If you even raise your voice again, I'm calling the police.'

Gordon snorts.

'He's mine, I can do whatever I want with him.'

Castiel forces himself to stay calm.

'This is a university, and you're assaulting a student,' he counters, his voice low, knowing that he stinks of fury. Dean curls away from him and it breaks his heart. 'A very hardworking, dedicated student, whom you just publically degraded. Our faculty staff doesn't tolerate that.'

Gordon sizes him up, still with that infuriating smirk that somehow reminds Castiel of Dean. The comparison makes his insides twist. 

'Good thing he ain't a student anymore.'

'No,' Dean protests brokenly and grabs Gordon's arm. 'Look, I'm sorry, I'll be better, just please don't-'

'Shut up,' Gordon frees his arm and Dean cringes instinctively, but no punch comes. 'I was just gonna warn you, but since now you've got an attitude, you'll stay at home like a good omega. And I don't wanna hear another word.'

'You can't-' Castiel starts, devastated on Dean's behalf, but helpless. 

'From you, either,' Gordon growls and leaves, clearly expecting Dean to go after him.

Castiel stares at the omega, thinking and thinking and thinking, but he doesn't come up with anything that would improve the situation. 

'Dean-'

Dean wipes his glassy eyes angrily, avoiding Castiel's gaze. His cheeks are burning, but he sets his mouth in a hard line.

'Bye, Cas,' he says in a hollow voice, and follows Gordon outside. 

When Castiel opens the cookie container at home, there's a note taped to the inside of the lid.

 _call me if you change your mind,_ and a phone number.

"Hello?"

"Dean, it's Castiel Novak-" as if Dean doesn't know who he is, Castiel thinks, annoyed at himself. "I just wanted-"

"Look, Cas, thanks for everything, but I don't wanna talk," Dean replies in a suspiciously thick voice and hangs up. Castiel stares at the phone for a total of five seconds before he calls again. Dean doesn't pick up three times, but on the fourth try, he snaps:

"What?!"

"I have to give you your course summary with grades. It's university policy."

There's a bit of confused silence on the other end.

"Oh. Okay," Dean replies slowly. "Fine. I'm grounded, now," he chuckles weakly, and Castiel sighs and runs a hand down his face. "But you can come see me at the house. He's gone tomorrow between eight and twelve."

"I'll be there."

"Cool," and Dean hangs up, again.

Castiel drives up to the house at half past eight. It's even worse in daylight, falling apart, really. He goes up the creaky steps, avoiding the broken one, and knocks on the door.

Dean opens, and he's so different. A big bruise covers one side of his face, but he's the picture perfect omega otherwise; his gaze fixed on the ground, head bowed submissively. 

'Hello, Dean,' Castiel stomps his feet to get rid of the snow. 'May I come in?'

'Yeah,' Dean shrugs and lets him in. He's wearing sweats and a too-big T-shirt, but it's cold inside the house. Castiel thinks Gordon still hasn't invested in nails for the backdoor, and the draft can be felt in the tiny corridor. Dean leads Castiel to the kitchen. There's a rack of mismatched dishes, some old cabinets and a rickety old table in the middle, but everything's blindingly clean. Castiel sits by the table and Dean pours him some coffee in a chipped blue mug before sitting across from him and nursing a beer bottle.

'That can't be healthy, so early in the morning,' Castiel says, hoping to sound humourous, like he's starting a conversation, but Dean just shoots him a depressed look and shrugs. The fight has left him, Castiel realizes, and it's horrifying to see.

'So where's the summary?' he asks. Castiel frowns. Did he really buy that?

'There's no summary. I lied.'

'Oh,' Dean freezes with the bottle halfway to his lips, assessing Castiel with no expression, and then drinks anyway. 'So why are you here?'

'Why won't you leave Gordon?'

Dean snorts and puts the bottle on the table. 

'Can't.'

'You can't or you're afraid to?' Castiel pushes, leaning forward. 'I can help you-'

'No, you can't,' Dean interrupts him in a monotone voice, picking at the label around the bottle. He won't look at him. 'I get it, you saw Gordon beat the shit out of me so you came to say you're sorry for me, that's nice. You can go now.'

Though Dean's defeated and quiet like never before, Castiel understands he doesn't want him to leave, not at all. Maybe Dean's not great with words, but he can get across what he means just fine.

'I'm not leaving until you tell me your story,' Castiel states, and drinks his coffee. It's good. No surprise there, the cookies were amazing as well.

Dean frowns at him, but again, there's no fight in him. 'Fine,' he says. 'My dad owed Gordon a great deal of cash. He died. I was the most valuable thing he owned, so Gordon inherited me. Boom, end of story.'

'But you have a brother-'

'Sam's an alpha,' Dean snaps, the tiniest spark back in his eyes. Castiel's relieved to see it. 'And he doesn't know. He'll never know. He thinks me and Gordon did it out of _love_ ,' he rolls his eyes, but then goes back to peeling the label. Castel wishes he could grab the bottle and throw it somewhere so that it shatters and Dean has to look at him. 'I'm a good actor, it turns out.'

Castiel doesn't think so. Sam must have his doubts as well, it's improbable that Dean was able to keep up this ruse for eight years. 

It's like Dean can hear his thoughts.

'Don't even _think_ about contacting Sam over this. I won't ever forgive you, I swear.'

'I won't,' Castiel promises. Tiny shreds of paper fall down to the table where Dean's fingers peel them off. Castiel clenches his jaw. 'So it's money. He kept you so you can earn money for him and maintain the house.'

'First the restaurant, then a supermarket... worked the docks in one of the cities where we lived... a gas station, and I've finally upgraded to a garage,' Dean smirks mirthlessly. 'Was gonna be a nurse next, but look how that turned out. I think-' he hesitates, and he's wearing blockers, so Castiel's not sure, but the omega seems scared, 'I think he's gonna sell me soon. He's been fed up with me lately. He told me he's contacted a buyer, some omega trainer.'

That's not bad, Castiel thinks. This is his chance. He could buy Dean, as wrong as that sounds, and then he'd get to go back to school and live with Castiel in his apartment. He never thought about it in terms of practicality, before; they'd have to share a bed as he doesn't even own a couch, and it's such a small space, but he could buy Dean more clothes and - he'd figure something out. They could move to one of the bigger apartments that Gabriel owns, or to the cabin by the lake that Michael loans the family, and -

And his heart beats faster. 

'You could afford me too, I guess,' Dean continues with fake nonchalance, unaware of Castiel's thoughts. Castiel blinks. 

'What?'

'I mean, now that you've seen what a good omega I can be,' Dean still stares at the bottle, his fingers working the label. Castiel thinks that perhaps he can't stop, scratching at the brown glass to get the glue off in some scarily systematic manner. 'You can easily keep me in line. Throw a punch here, a kick there and I'll behave. Someone as smart as you could figure it out.'

'Dean.'

'I'm just sayin'. I'm low maintenance and I could fix your heater.'

Castiel knits his brow.

'What's wrong with my heater?'

'Been blowing cold air all the way to my house. You didn't notice?'

Castiel sighs. 'No, I suppose I was too focused on you. And your pepper spray.'

Dean waves a hand in the air. 

'It's empty, you were safe. Found it on a bench coming back home one evenin'. Still scared alphas away.'

There's silence again, disturbed only by the soft sound of Dean's fingernails tearing off the sticker. Castiel clenches his fists.

'Dean, will you look at me?'

'I can also clean,' the omega adds, ignoring him. 'I could help you grade the papers or whatever. Bring you lunch.'

That makes Castiel shudder, remembering Gordon in his lecture room.

'Dean, stop.'

'I don't know what else you want, but-'

'I said stop!' 

Castiel grabs the bottle, and he throws the bottle, and the bottle shatters. Dean sits, stunned, but he's looking at him. Finally, he's looking at him. 

'Holy shit,' Dean says and he sounds - awed. 'You better clean that up, I sure as fuck won't.'

'I'll make Gordon an offer tomorrow.'

Dean nods, without missing a beat. 'Hope it's an offer he can't refuse.'

'I'll take a loan. Where's your dustpan?'

Dean points to the cupboard and watches as Castiel goes for it and bends down to gather all the shards with the brush. He only straightens up after the floor is completely clean, and he throws everything away. Dean holds out a hand and pulls him close, and kisses him. Castiel kisses back and runs his fingers through Dean's hair. The omega sighs softly and leans into the touch. Letting him go feels like the hardest thing in Castiel's life.

'I'll see you soon,' he promises. Dean's green eyes search his, and he nods.

'You owe me a beer,' he smiles a little, and Castiel kisses him one last time before leaving.

When he gets in the car, the heater blows cold air all the way to his house, and he barely notices. 

Gordon doesn't agree at first, out of spite, but Castiel anticipated that. He secured a bigger amount of money and doesn't offer even half of it during the first negotiation. He feels a little bad about it at first, but then thinks that he'll be able to spend the rest of the money on what Dean really needs and not on this asshole. Finally, Gordon relents. 

Castiel finishes his last lecture of the day but he can barely focus, because tonight, Dean will arrive. He didn't have much time to prepare, but they can go shopping together, and he feels like he's a child again, waiting all night to open the presents underneath the Christmas tree. 

When someone knocks on his door, he bites back an irritated reply. Getting home faster won't make Dean come over faster, so he might as well help a student out. 

'Yes?' he asks.

The scent hits him before he sees who it is.

'Dean,' he breathes.

'The one and only,' Dean smiles stepping inside, but everything about him is softer. He's holding his backpack and nothing else. 

'These are all your things?' Castiel asks, and comes over to meet him and embrace him shamelessly. Dean's stiff at first, but soon, he relaxes and nods. 'We're going to buy you so much more.'

'Okay,' Dean agrees easily. 'Will you give me my bite now? I wanna know you're serious about this.'

'Alright.'

Dean startles him by swiftly taking off his jacket and shirt. He smells so good, and though still bruised, he's beautiful. Castiel wants to run his hands down his chest, but for now, they have to rush it. He doesn't want any students - or teachers - interrupting this moment. 

He leans close and bites. Dean doesn't make a sound but he sags in his arms, and he smells content. When Castiel pulls away, the first thing he does is look for a pack of tissues on his desk. 

'Jesus, Cas,' Dean huffs, like he can't believe it. 'Be a man, let it bleed.'

Castiel ignores him and dabs gently at the wound, until it's clean. His own teeth marks on Dean's skin, forever, over the fading scar of Gordon's bite. Castiel's going to erase him completely, he knows that, in more ways that one. 

'Maybe _you_ should've been studying to be a nurse,' Dean snarks, but he doesn't protest as Castiel fusses over him, puts his shirt back on and smooths back his hair tenderly. 'Will you take me home now? Or do I have to take a bus?'

Dean's not kidding this time, and it makes Castiel pause.

'You will never take the bus again,' he growls. 'I will drive you _everywhere_.'

'Cool, a personal chauffeur,' Dean smiles and grabs his hand. 'See, I do know some fancy words.'

Castiel rolls his eyes but he clings to him - and Dean clings as well - as he packs his things and they leave the campus together. He never expected to finish the semester with a handsome, mouthy mate by his side, but just like Dean's new essays, it's a definite improvement.

**Author's Note:**

> i wanted to write something completely different from dcwyb for once. to "change my style" aka practice writing something standalone where i don't describe everyone's emotions in depth. this one's much gloomier and laconic, and i'm not sure how i feel about it, but it was fun to try something new and definitely fun to write dean and cas as occasional assholes. thanks for reading, did you like it, did you hate it, let me know! :)


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